


together, welcomed

by euphemea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Depression, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:20:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26799472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea/pseuds/euphemea
Summary: Cake and festivities—it sounds almost nice, but also overwhelming. Marianne’s never been good with people, and her curse makes that worse. Even if her presence wasn't going to ruin their party, she isn’t sure she’d want to go.~~The Golden Deer are throwing Claude a birthday party. Marianne isn't sure she should be there.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	together, welcomed

Marianne crumples the letter and shoves it off her desk. It joins a small pile of its brethren on the floor. 

No matter how many pages she writes, the Goddess does not answer her pleas. Each day, she begs for salvation, but the peace she desires remains out of reach. The Goddess’s touch is gentle and guiding; it suffuses the cathedral with its warmth, hopeful in its splendor, but it silently rejects Marianne all the same.

She drops her head onto her arms and closes her eyes. 

Marianne is so, _so_ tired.

A loud knock startles her.

“H-hello?” she calls out, uncertain. 

A beat stretches without response, and Marianne tilts her head toward the door, tense.

Any visitor should have announced themself already. An uneasy chill settles against the back of Marianne’s neck.

There are countless tales of how the monastery is haunted; legions of stories about how, at its core, the bones of those never properly laid to rest writhe and wail, digging for an absolution they will not find. They’ve been there since a war from long before Fódlan’s founding. 

She’d overheard Claude teasing Lysithea about it in the library again only yesterday. Marianne’s not sure how true those stories are, but Claude had been convincing enough. Lysithea had certainly sounded like she believed him.

The thing Marianne had expected least was for any of those ghosts to visit her. But, knowing her curse, maybe she should have expected it. The ghost is here, and it’s going to claim her for the dead. This isn’t exactly what Marianne had imagined when she started asking for deliverance, but she won’t say no, no matter what form it takes.

The doorknob clicks, its sound echoing in Marianne’s ears.

Marianne inhales, but she closes her eyes and forces her body to relax. She’s ready for the spirits to take her. The Goddess is finally answering her prayers, just when she thought they would never come true.

The door opens and the ghost takes two steps in.

“Marianne? You awake there?” asks Leonie, concern lacing her voice. 

Marianne blinks and takes in her classmate, standing uneasy in the middle of her room, her eyes darting around and wincing at the mess. Shame wells up in Marianne’s throat as Leonie spots the bed and flinches.

She feels ridiculous. Of course Leonie isn’t a ghost. Marianne probably just didn’t hear her greeting through the heavy door. 

“Oh, yes. Um. I’m awake.” She sits up. It’s silly how challenging it is; it’s like moving through molasses, though she’s pretty sure she’s only touching air. Marianne’s hands tremble—from exertion, from the horrible feeling clawing at her chest—and she clenches them, tucking them into her skirt. “I wasn’t asleep.”

It’s Leonie’s turn to blink.

“Huh. Okay.” She shrugs. “Well, I came up to fetch you. Everyone else is already in the classroom.”

Marianne frowns. “It’s—it’s nighttime now, isn’t it? Do we still have more lessons?” 

Did she screw up again? Will Margrave Edmund hear of this? It’s better that the others stay away for their safety, even for classes, but the twisting in her gut intensifies anyway. The blunt, disappointed letters about how she has no chance as an heir and how she’d better be training to be a good wife ring loud in her mind.

“No, no, nothing like that. Goddess, that would be awful. No, we’re having a party! It’s Claude’s birthday.”

The tension eases, a little. In its place rises a different kind of uneasiness. 

“Oh. Um, I’m sorry,” Marianne says, ducking her head again. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry I made you come all this way to tell me.”

Leonie lets out a small laugh. It’s a nice laugh, not mean. A part of Marianne still wonders what she said that’s worthy of ridicule. “That’s okay. That’s what friends are for, right? I can’t believe no one told you earlier.”

“They—they might have. They probably did, I just didn’t hear them. It’s my fault, please don’t blame anyone else.” 

“No need to worry, I’m not blaming anyone. It’s not your fault either.”

Marianne looks up, opening her mouth to protest but closes it again. It’s a nice sentiment, and Leonie doesn’t deserve to have Marianne ruin it for her.

Leonie continues. “But we should go. Everyone’s waiting! Well—not Claude, Hilda’s still distracting him, I think. He probably knows anyway. He was dropping hints about it earlier, and there’s no way Lorenz was able to keep his mouth shut. Anyway, we should get back. Don’t want to let Lysithea eat all the cake on her own before we can even wish Claude a happy birthday.”

Cake and festivities—it sounds almost nice, but also overwhelming. Marianne’s never been good with people, and her curse makes that worse. Even if her presence wasn't going to ruin their party, she isn’t sure she’d want to go.

Leonie jerks her head toward the door, oblivious to the clamor of Marianne’s thoughts. “You ready?”

Marianne startles slightly, and she shakes her head. “You—you can go without me. I’m not sure I should be there. I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You’re not imposing, you’re one of our classmates. One of our friends!”

“Friends…” 

Marianne’s never been not sure of the word and what it means, and her three months at the Officers Academy hasn’t changed that. 

Yes, she knows her classmates better now than when they’d all arrived. She’s fought alongside them on a couple missions and a number of training exercises. She’s maybe even been a decent enough healer, conveniently placed to help them on the battlefield. But they can do better than her when it comes to friendships. There’s no doubt that they _have_ done better, forming close ties with one another and building bonds with the students from the other classes. 

Marianne has mostly kept to herself. She has to, lest her curse harm any of the other students.

“Yup, friends. We want you to be there with us.”

“I really—I really don’t think you should want me there.” She clenches her fists, still buried in her skirt. “You’ll have much more fun without me. I don’t want to ruin the party for anyone.”

“What are you talking about? You won’t ruin it.” Leonie shakes her head. “If anyone’s going to make it not fun for the rest of us, you can bet that person is going to be Lorenz.” 

She holds out a hand to Marianne, and Marianne stares at it. Like this, with Leonie standing over her, Marianne’s stomach twists uncomfortably. She knows that it shouldn’t; as formidable as Leonie is, she’s kind and well-meaning off the battlefield. She’s nothing like Marianne’s adoptive father. Marianne still can’t bring her eyes up to meet Leonie’s. 

“I…”

“I promise,” interrupts Leonie, “that if you really aren’t having fun, you can come back as soon as we’re done saying happy birthday to Claude. But like I said, we want you there. I wouldn’t have bothered to come up here if we didn’t.”

“O-oh.” 

“What do you say? Come with me?” Marianne chances a glance upward. Leonie’s grinning now, her smile crooked and warm. It’s honest in the way that Marianne’s not used to. 

“Okay,” Marianne replies, small and shaking. She pushes herself to her feet and shuffles to the door. Leonie follows behind her. “I… I think I’d like to say happy birthday to Claude. If he’ll have me.”

“That’s the spirit! We have to hurry though. Knowing Lysithea, she’s definitely made them start without us.” 

Leonie is swift in her exit, decisive, strong-backed and steady in a Marianne will never be. She gives Marianne a single squeeze on the shoulder as she passes. The walk to the classrooms is quiet; it’s late enough that Marianne doesn’t see many other students milling about. A couple stragglers wave to Leonie as they pass the dining hall. 

Marianne remains unnoticed. It’s for the better.

They hear the classroom before they see it. Lysithea’s voice carries as she asks, pointed, what’s taking Claude so long. Lorenz follows with a comment about how if Claude isn’t reliable enough to show up to his own birthday party, then he’s clearly not dependable enough to lead the Alliance. Meanwhile, Raphael complains that the food is taunting him, just sitting there uneaten.

Leonie calls out as they enter. “We’re back! Marianne’s here now.”

“Finally!” Lysithea says, crossing her arms. “Now we just need to figure out what’s taking Hilda and Claude so long.”

“Thank you for having me,” Marianne says quietly. She’s only just arrived but she’s already tempted to try to fade into one of the walls. Her classmates are nice enough to be around, but they’re always a bit loud. 

“Of course, you’re always welcome, Marianne,” comes Hilda’s voice from behind her, backed by the sound of Claude’s chuckles. Marianne jolts, but she turns and throws Hilda a small smile. Their arrival has uncanny timing, and Marianne can’t help but wonder if they planned it that way. “Lysithea, you can stop your whining, we’re here now. Anyway, we’re not late—the party doesn’t start until we get here.”

“We _said_ eight on the dot,” Lysithea retorts. “It’s almost nine now.”

“So we took a detour,” Hilda says, rolling her eyes. “You can have your cake, so calm down.”

Claude laughs. “I forgot, it’s your bedtime, right Lysithea? No wonder you’re so cranky. Sorry for keeping you up.”

Lysithea puffs up. “I am _not_ a child! It might be _your_ bedtime, with your work ethic, but—” 

“Okay!” Leonie interjects. “Whatever, guys, we’re all here now, let’s just have a nice night, okay?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Lysithea says. 

Hilda claps her hands together. “Well, the birthday boy is here now, so we can sing and eat cake and whatever.” She slaps Claude on the back. He stumbles forward, exhaling with an _oof_. “Happy birthday, birthday boy.”

Claude rights himself. “Thanks, Hilda.” His smirk slips into a smile, a little warmer than it usually is. “Thanks, all of you. I’m really grateful you put this together for me.”

“Yes, you should be thankful,” Lorenz says, “and perhaps you ought to show that gratitude with better timeliness.”

No one bothers to offer Lorenz a reply.

With that, Marianne’s classmates surround the cake. A knife is conjured and shoved into Claude’s hands. Marianne wants to turn down her slice—surely there’s someone who deserves it more—but Claude presses the plate into her palms with a grin and a little too much force. 

She accepts it with trembling hands and forces her jaw to unstick. “Happy birthday, Claude. Um… I hope you had a good day.”

He smiles at her, a little too brilliant, but his voice is friendly. “Thanks! It was pretty good. Had tea with Teach earlier, and it really means a lot that you all pulled this together for me.” 

“Oh, I—I didn’t do anything. Leonie just asked me to come along. It was all everyone else.”

Claude shakes his head. “That’s not what I mean. I’m glad we’re all here, together. Thanks for coming, Marianne. It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Marianne doesn’t have anything to say to that, so she nods and retreats to her desk to pick at the cake. It’s sweet—maybe a little too much so, but it’s fluffy and soft. Around her, her classmates have returned to their squabbling. Claude is perched on the Professor’s desk, watching over them all. Raphael booms with laughter, and Lysithea threatens to set Lorenz on fire for telling her she shouldn’t eat so much sugar.

A seed of hope blossoms in her chest, and a giggle bubbles to her lips. 

Marianne’s pretty sure she doesn’t deserve this joy, this camaraderie—but it’s nice. It’s comfortable. 

Just this once, she can let herself forget her curse, if only for the night.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on twitter [@euphemeas](https://twitter.com/euphemeas)


End file.
